Best Intentions
by Neferit
Summary: It seemed so harmless at the beginning – get to know the future Consort, make sure that he will not become one, for there are others far more suitable than some hobbit from Shire. Or rather - Valar save them all from those who have good intentions. FULL A/N INSIDE. AU. Read progress updates on nefindahouseDOTwordpressDOTcom , if interested on what's going on with the story.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Written for a prompt:

_To strengthen the ties between the Shire and Erebor, Bilbo is to be married to Thorin. Bilbo is ecstatic while Thorin reluctantly agrees with the arrangement. When Bilbo moves in to Erebor, many dwarves are skeptical about the hobbit but they still treat him accordingly._

_All except Kili and Fili, who believe Bilbo is in for the gold and gems (after hearing from a hobbit named Lobelia, who says Bilbo is actually a gold-digger). It doesn't help that they have been match-making Thorin for years with a lady-dwarf who they think is Thorin's 'one'._

_And so they do their best to treat Bilbo nicely when in front of him and other dwarves, but behind their backs, the brothers plan ways to kick Bilbo out of Erebor. They teach Bilbo the wrong dwarf culture to humiliate him. They knock him down too many times (during practice) and 'innocently' show him how useless he is. They even talk many nice things about the lady-dwarf loudly to make Bilbo thinks he has broken up such a great relationship._

_Bilbo realizes he has to adapt to many things in Erebor but whatever hardship comes to him, he would withstand them just so he could be with his husband. He left the Shire to be with his soulmate._

_He knows Thorin is his 'one', he has the soulmark he was born with to prove it._

_He manages just fine, until the Arkenstone goes missing and is found stashed with his belongings._

I need to address several things for this 'verse. First, Bilbo will not be going alone – Viola Whitfoot – my OC you may recognize from several other works of mine – will be accompanying him as his personal guard, for which she spends several months by training with the Rangers, who allowed her to come to their villages. She will be joining him not only because they are the best friends hobbits can be, but because she has a dwarven soulmate, too, and hopes to meet him in Erebor. Of course, neither of them knows that Fili and Kili come to Shire with the best intentions in mind – find a way how to make sure their uncle Thorin is happy – with someone who is not Bilbo Baggins, and in search of it they will not stop at anything. Especially once they have proof that Bilbo Baggins is unworthy of Thorin Oakenshield.

I will also be using someone else's headcanons about soulmates – from different fandom as well. The headcanon is that is one of the soulmates is wrongfully rejected by the other (or the bond broken by the other for wrong reasons), the wronged partner's eyes become silver, no matter their previous colours. It is possible to reverse that – but who would trust to someone who wronged them so a second time?

* * *

**Prologue**

"_Exactly what the powers of hell feed on: the best instincts in man."_

**-o.O.o-**

It seemed so harmless at the beginning – get to know the future Consort, make sure that he will not become one, for there are others far more suitable than some hobbit from Shire.

Or maybe it wasn't that any hobbit of the Shire would be unsuitable. But this particular hobbit was far from suitable, the more Fili and Kili heard of him. This… Bilbo Baggins.

_"Bilbo Baggins is the worst candidate for consort, let me tell you! He just hoards his money and then just sits on them, the greedy hobbit he is! He is related to my husband Otho Sackville-Baggins, you see, but no matter how struggling we were in the beginnings of our marriage, Bilbo Baggins never raised a finger to help us, no sirree!"_

_It seemed so harmless and truthful, when they saw it with their own eyes – this woman, Lobelia, went to Bag End before them to show them the proof of what a greedy hobbit this Bilbo Baggins is, and had been sent on her way with only sharp words and no help offered._

The same hobbit now laid on the stony floor of Erebor throne room, being stripped off his dwarven clothing by his personal guard, Viola Whitfoot, enabling everyone in the closest vicinity to see the letters on the left side of his chest, the silver hue of his eyes instead of their usual vibrant blue, being wrapped in the outer robe lent to him by elven Prince, while Viola took off every single piece of her clothing but the bare essentials, wrapping herself in the coat lent to her by Bard of Laketown, before she turned to face the stunned monarchs, flash of the skin of her chest, above her underclothing, drawing Kili's eyes. It was the same lettering as the one they saw on Bilbo. Were the hobbits tattooed?

"Your Highnesses, we shall remove ourselves from the halls of Erebor until the evening. With your leave, I would ask King Bard and King Thranduil for their help in our… removal from your halls."

"What do the letters on your chests mean?" blurted Fili, while Kili asked at the same time: "Why are your eyes silver?"

"Dwarves are not the only secretive race upon the Arda," Viola replied with a false smile, and turning around, Bard, carrying Bilbo who was once again unconscious in his arms, following after her.

There was something wrong about the whole picture, the Princes thought, and it wasn't just the blood flowing out of Viola's nose, or Bilbo's collapse.

But right now, the elves and the men looked at them with deep distrust, and if they knew anything, they certainly weren't telling.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** The soulmarks are showing.

**Disclaimer:** I really wish I owned something. Also, I officially hate the FFnet's formatting. Or rather, I'm starting to hate it even more than I already so you know.

* * *

_"But how will I know who my Soulmate is?" Brida felt that this was one of the most important questions she had ever asked in her life.  
'By taking risks' she said to Brida. ' By risking failure, disappointment, disillusion, but never ceasing in you search for Love. As long as you keep looking, you will triumph in the end."_

**-o.O.o-**

"Do you think we are freaks, Bilbo?"

Twelve year old Bilbo looked down into the teary eyes of his best friend Viola. She was _okay_, even if she was a girl (and girls were _yucky_, everyone knew that), but the rest of their usual playmates were currently rating really low in his books.

All of them had been of age when the soulmarks started to appear – usually full of vibrant colouring, written in ornamental font, clearly stating the name of their soulmate. The girls started to show theirs to each other, whispering excitedly, until Viola showed hers and Hanna, one of the least pleasant girls around, started laughing and called Viola _freak_.

_Freak_, for Viola's soulmark lacked the usual colours – instead, it was just a line of black signs, strangely square, while the usual would be round letters everyone knew and could read without problem.

Viola started crying, and Bilbo swooped down to save her from further ridicule, as the rest of their playmates started laughing at her 'acting like a babe' and crying in public as well. He _might_ have yelled at them, and he also _might_ have landed some punches in her defence (and just _maybe_ the boys cried like babies as well, come to think of it), but then he took her around the shoulders and led her away, to one of their 'secret' places.

Up until Viola showed him hers, he didn't realize how similar, yet how different their soulmarks looked.

"No, Viola," he said, hugging her around the shoulders. In that moment he felt like one of the warriors of old, protecting a lady in distress. "We are just _different_." He smiled at her. "The others are just jealous, because our soulmates will be something _so_ very special, you'll see!"

Viola smiled at him; her cheeks still wet from her crying, but her eyes no longer welling with tears. She snuggled closer and he let her, his mind occupied on who their soulmates might be.

He just hoped they will hurry up.

Bilbo wasn't quite sure what to expect, when his uncle Fortinbras called him to Tookborough all of sudden. Sure, the whole Shire had been beside themselves with the latest gossip – dwarves from Far East coming that came to Shire – but what did that had in common with him?

And then Fortinbras showed him the letter from dwarven King, and his eyes fell on the signatures on the bottom. The names… the names were written in Westron, but under them, there… there were the script he and Viola carried above their hearts!

"I thought you might find this particular letter very curious, nephew," Fortinbras said, watching his nephew stare at exactly the same place for several minutes. "You and that friend of yours, that is."

"Uncle," he raised his head up, heart beating wildly, "may I copy those names? Viola and me, we… we would finally be able to find out whose names we carry!"

The older hobbit slowly nodded, his nephew eagerly scribbling the names down. He had a feeling he already knew at least one of their soulmates, seeing their strange soulmarks before, but at the same time he couldn't help the sense of uneasy that settled on his heart.

Bilbo and Viola spent the whole evening by trying to decipher the names on the parchment. It was known to them how secretive dwarves are, so the only names they could count on being the same would be those longer groups of letters.

T-H-R-O-R

T-H-R-A-I-N

T-H-O-R-I-N

F-U-N-D-I-N

B-A-L-I-N

"Thorin," whispered Bilbo. The name above his heart had been _Thorin_. Thorin, Prince of Erebor, someone whose royal parents had been arranging a marriage for.

Viola, on the other side, had been frowning at the parchment before her as she chewed on the end of her quill.

D-(some unrecognizable letter)-A-L-I-N.

What was the name of her soulmate? Why couldn't she find the last letter she so desperately needed?!

For a moment she envied Bilbo so much, finally knowing who the other half of his soul is. But then she felt ashamed of herself. To be envious of her best friend, her protector, her brother by all but blood – she will be happy for him.

"At what matter did the dwarves actually write to the Thain, Bilbo?" she broke his daydreaming, sneakily crumpling the parchment and throwing it into the fire. He snapped to attention again.

"The King of Erebor proposes a treaty between Shire and the Lonely Mountain. To strengthen the ties, he suggests an arranged marriage – since the King already has number of heirs in the line, according to the letter it doesn't matter whether the Shire representative will be a man or a woman."

"It will be _man_," Viola said resolutely, giving him a soft smile, "and that man will be _you_."

Bilbo returned the smile. "And you will be there with me. We need to find you your other half, after all, don't we?"

She nodded wordlessly, staring into the fire. They did. She just hoped that it would be possible, for a future Consort of the Prince to travel with an unmarried woman as his companion.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Preparations for the big journey.

**Disclaimer:** I really wish I owned something. Also, I officially hate the FFnet's formatting. Or rather, I'm starting to hate it even more than I already do, just so you know.

* * *

_"Preparation doesn't assures victory, it assures confidence."_

**-o.O.o-**

Of course it _wasn't_ possible for the future Consort of the Prince to travel with an unmarried woman, no matter how familial-only their relationship was, as one of the dwarven emissaries said. However, if the said woman was there as his personal guard…

Bilbo had been horrified by that statement. To force Viola into wielding weapons? Sooner…!

Yet, for Viola the whole matter had been already decided. She would accompany her friend no matter what, and if taking up arms had been the only way, so be it. She will learn how to distinguish the pointy end of the sword from the hilt, she will work hard – and once she would find her dwarven soulmate, she would kick him right in the shins for taking so long to appear.

The next few weeks of her training, offered by the Rangers, nearly shook her resolve, when she dragged herself to her family smial every day, every single of her muscles screaming at the smallest of movements, while her stomach let her know how improper it was to miss a meal for something so silly like weapon training. But for being successfully able to yield a weapon, she needed those muscles, and so she spent countless hours by training with the youngest of ranger families.

But after the long months, when she barely had time to rest, not to mention to actually spend some time with Bilbo, she felt ready; ready to be the one protects, instead of being protected – which was how it always had been. Of course, part of her duties ensured that she would also be his personal servant, if need be, which sent them both snickering, when they were alone.

Meanwhile, Bilbo was getting ready for moving to Erebor; making sure all his estates were in order had been no simple task, and he had more than just one run-in with his less favourite relatives. Namely – Sackville-Bagginses. Those always thought that when his parents died, he should move to her mother's family (for it was her heritage what made him so _strange_) and leave his cousin Otho to move into the Bag End. As if! That in mind, Bilbo had been very careful about setting his affairs in order as legally as possible – and once he left Shire for good, everything he would be leaving behind was meant to be for his cousin Drogo Baggins.

The lad just got married recently – Bag End would be a good home for him, his wife Primula and their future children.

Of course, nothing could really prepare him for unexpected 'visit' of his cousin Lobelia right when he was expecting the dwarves of Erebor to make acquaintance with them – she actually had the gall to come to Bag End and demand that he writes the smial to her and Otho.

He might have been a tad sharper than he usually was, but his patience with Lobelia and Otho had been getting thinner by each moment his departure to Erebor was closer. He barely managed to get her to leave, when the dwarves came.

And not just some dwarves – princes of Erebor, sons of his intended's sister no less!

Sure, their manners left quite a lot to be desired, but in spirit of learning more about his future family he set his indignation aside. Still, it irked him quite a bit, when the dark-haired price started cleaning his boots on the glory chest made by his other. This time he just snapped at him to please not do that, and then swiftly invited the princes further into Bag End.

Soon after them two more dwarves arrived – judging by the names, they were also related in some way, their names Balin and Dwalin; the first one reminding Bilbo of his grandfather Gerontius with his pleasant smile and manners, not to mention the brown hair with streaks of white in it. The other one, Dwalin, showed to be a bit of a challenge to sort – he was huge for a dwarf, his hair forming a – Bilbo believed this hairstyle was name 'mohawk' – and he was wearing a mighty scowl on his face.

"Where is that personal guard of yours?" he barked, making Bilbo jump. He nearly jumped again, when he saw flash of skirts and heard calmly said: "Right where I should be, it seems. Viola Whitfoot. Pleasure to meet you."

Viola and her dramatic entrances, Bilbo thought with a secretive smile. Exchanging winks with his friend, he started serving some refreshments, making small talk that only Balin seemed to catch on. Viola herself took her cup of tea and went to sit by her usual place at the window seat, easily overlooking the whole room.

"Shouldn't a personal guard be, I don't know, by the person they are supposed to be protecting?" asked Fili, bothered by the uncomfortable tension. He already disliked the hobbit that was supposed to become his second uncle, but something about the woman rubbed him strangely as well.

This time it was Bilbo, who answered. "Viola would be no more than two steps from me, were we anywhere but in the Shire. The only troubles that come to Shire are usually brought in from the outside." He looked at the older Prince. "Are you a troublemaker, Your Highness?"

Fili sputtered, while the rest of the dwarves roared in laughter, which only added minus points to the hobbit. Nobody makes Prince a laughing stock.

And that woman, Viola. He will have to ask about her later.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** The journey.

**Disclaimer:** Interesting fact - apart from where I do not own anything - when I published this on AO3, this fic really hit the roof in number of hits, subscriptions, kudoses and comments. The feedback came even more than it was for Pie and Quill. But it makes me a sad pandaa that my pet project, _Of Tables That Turn_, was by no means similarly popular. Oh well. xD

* * *

_"It's not so much the journey that's important; as is the way that we treat those we encounter and those around us, along the way."_

**-o.O.o-**

Of course, someone as unsuitable as mister Baggins just had to have someone just as unsuitable for his personal guard and servant.

_"Viola Whitfoot? I would not want her anywhere close, master dwarf, no matter what. She's ruthless, and just as greedy as her new master. Where he will point, she will go, what he says, she will do."_

So far it was showing true – while they were still in the Shire, though, sometimes doubts about what they had been told surfaced in the youngest dwarves. The small caravan of dwarves travelled through the peaceful land, and the hobbit acted so amazingly towards the countless children who sometimes ran along them that it made them wonder how such a man, who obviously cares so much about children, and whom the children adore in turn, could be such a sorry excuse for a future consort.

But then he would complain about missing handkerchief, about his old armchair or about that useless cloth things with holes in them, and all the doubt had been buried under new wave of evidence of his unsuitability.

The woman, Viola Whitfoot, was only a bit more tolerable – she knew how to ride a pony without trouble, and didn't seem to be bothered by quite a few of the ruckus the dwarves tended to get into. But the obvious closeness between her and the future Consort, sometimes outright landing right on the line what was appropriate and what was not got on Fili's nerves.

Never mind that their uncle and Dwalin tended to be very much the same, when travelling. Those were both dwarrow – it was alright for them. But for a woman and a man to be like that, watching each other during baths they took together, huddling close by the evening fire – that was not proper, especially if they weren't related.

They were nearby Rivendell, the Last Homely House, as the whole place had been named by the weed-eaters, when they ran into ruins of a farm.

And it shouldn't been those hobbits, who saved them from being eaten – it should be the dwarves saving the hobbits from being eaten. As it was, both hobbits happened to escape the three trolls' attention and then keep them occupied long enough for the sun to rise, successfully turning the trolls into stone.

The others from their caravan seemed rather impressed by the feat. The princes – not so much.

Especially when the woman handed Baggins a short sword and he nearly managed to stab himself in foot as he dropped it from his clumsy fingers.

Little did the princes know that Viola just handed Bilbo sword that would one day become his trademark – sword with no name and of little importance, but with fate bigger than the Lonely Mountain.

**-o.O.o-**

The elves, as Kili and Fili made an effort to call the Fair Folk even in the sanctity of their own minds while they were staying in their lands, seemed very much taken by the hobbits – even going out of their way to make them feel as welcome as they could; talking to them, offering them assistance whenever they seemed even a little lost, attempting to cook their traditional meals. Lord Elrond himself made it clear that he thought highly of the future Consort as he obviously knew his mother, suggesting things here and there, his sons offering their services with helping him train with the sword he so recently acquired.

Small group of elves accompanied them as far as over the Misty Mountains, to make sure they wouldn't run into any trouble.

When they finally parted ways, Kili and Fili spent the whole night by thinking up the most creative ways how to insult an elf.

**-o.O.o-**

It took them about two weeks to reach Mirkwood, and another group of elves who were to guide them through the forest, once again led by son of the King. Legolas Greenleaf seemed very curious about hobbits, and spent many an hour by talking to them, asking mostly about the Shire and the small folk that lived there.

His father, King Thranduil, was also rather curious about the Consort coming to Erebor; his usually cool features alight with curiosity, as he watched the two before him, his mouth quirking at the politeness often unexpected in those he dealt with.

It was maddening how charming that bloody hobbit could be, Kili and Fili thought. Even they, who knew his true colours, were falling to his charm, but still, they remained watchful around him.

While travelling, they wouldn't be able to prove anything. But once they reach Erebor, they will show their family who Bilbo Baggins and his minion were, and have them cast out of Erebor in disgrace.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Arrival to Erebor and reception of our hobbits.

**Disclaimer:**I really am running out of things to write here O_o Please read the A/N at the end of this chapter - it's really important to the future of this fic (and that is a fact, not just me being a drama llama).

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_"At the end of the day, it isn't where I came from. Maybe home is somewhere I'm going and never have been before."_

**-o.O.o-**

When Bilbo and Viola finally reached Dale, the city of Men under the Mountain, they had been… impressed. Sure, the biggest city of Men they ever had seen before had been Bree, and that certainly wasn't very awe inspiring even on its best days.

But Dale – so bursting with life, and colours and sounds and smells. The hobbits didn't know where to look first when they walked around the market.

And the Mountain herself – the gates to the dwarven city had been guarded by two huge statues of dwarven warriors; the gates themselves decorated with rich fittings, showing off dwarven craftsmanship, as well as the wealth of the whole kingdom.

There was a whole entourage waiting for them by the gates, quickly spiriting the future Consort away so he could refresh himself before being presented to his future spouse. Viola only barely managed not to get herself kicked out of Bilbo's rooms; the dwarves thought her only some kind of easily disposed of servant, instead of his personal guard who was to be close to him most of the time.

Now, they were finally walking through the halls leading to the throne room; Viola half-a-step behind Bilbo, walking by his right side, her eyes shooting around, trying to see everything and everyone at once. "And here I thought Brandyhall or Tuckborough was big," whispered Bilbo to his friend, giggling nervously as his eyes swooped over the walls, lingering on the engravings. "Consider me educated!"

And then they finally stood before the royal family, and all the lessons about protocol, drilled into their heads during the journey set to motion.

Viola made several sharp steps forward, bowing to King Thror, to the Princes at his sides, before she spoke. "Viola Whitfoot, daughter of Everard, son of Adelard, at your service."

For a moment, there was silence, before King Thror spoke, his voice echoing throughout the whole room.

"And what is your purpose in Erebor, Viola, daughter of Everard?"

"Your Highness," she could finally raise from the bow to look directly at the King, "it is my great honour and pleasure to introduce Bilbo Baggins to you, son of Bungo, son of Mungo, the one to seal the treaty between the Lonely Mountain and the Shire."

She stepped aside and knelt, sideways to the royals, as Bilbo walked around her to present himself. The audience was taking quite some time; the King asking number of questions, with Bilbo answering them to the best of his abilities, before they were allowed to leave, with Prince Thorin taking his leave of the throne room to accompany them back to Bilbo's rooms.

This time, they were also accompanied by Dwalin, who took his place in proper distance behind Thorin. The walk back to the quarters where the Consort was supposed to reside had been a rather short one, during which Prince Thorin and Bilbo exchanged pleasantries – an overly formal affair, if Viola was to voice an opinion – but at least _they_ were talking.

She, for one, was painfully aware of the dwarf by her side, who kept on glaring at her all throughout the journey to Erebor. _Glaring_, and judging from all the scowling, finding her lacking in everything he wanted to judge her on at the moment.

"Miss Whitfoot," Prince Thorin's voice interrupted her musings about one particular spot of the mural, "I've noticed that most of your gear is of… elven," he said with thinly hidden displeasure, "origin."

"That would be true, my lord," she said, carefully articulating her words. Wouldn't be very nice, if she put her foot in her mouth so soon and made the Prince dislike everything hobbit-like with her blunder. "The dwarves who escorted us from the Shire tried to make some makeshift armour for me during the journey, but given the differences between hobbit and dwarven statures, everything that was at hand was too heavy for me to move as easily as I needed. Lord Elrond had been most gracious in his gift of elven armour to the guard of future Consort of Prince of Erebor," she finished respectfully.

_Damn_, and she thought that dealing with some of the gentlehobbit families was difficult. Ugh.

"There will be a proper armour to be done for you soon, then," the Prince said; statement, not a question, for which Viola only nodded. The Prince then gave his intended a small bow, and after informing them that a servant shall be sent for them to take them to dinner, where they were to be introduced to the rest of the royals, he quickly excused himself; Dwalin following after him, leaving the hobbits alone once again.

The silence between them didn't last long – as soon as the door closed behind them, Bilbo giggled nervously. "My soulmate. He looks so…"

"Majestic?" suggested Viola cheekily. Bilbo snorted. "Well, that and he certainly has one very grumpy guard."

"As if we already didn't know," snorted Viola, helping him out of his jacket, moving around the room to get better idea of its layout, while Bilbo was searching for the bathroom, to clean himself properly before dinner.

The room was comfortable, if a bit too opulent in its decoration. Hobbits were oriented more towards comfort, even when it came to showing off one's personal wealth, so instead of using precious metals for nearly everything, they would rather show high quality craftsmanship wooden furniture and doilies made from such a delicate lace it looked as if it would tear, if you even breathed on it.

"Alright, so what is proper protocol for having a dinner with the rest of your future family, Bilbo?" Viola asked, turning from the mosaic on the bathroom wall she had been studying, as Bilbo washed himself.

Bilbo frowned for a second. "Well, I'm to wear my best clothing, for one."

"Which I will ready for you," added his friend already running the list of Bilbo's clothing available in her head.

"We wait until we are announced by the servant, who will then lead me to my place at the table."

"And I will follow after you, wait until you are seated and then go to stand by the wall with the rest of the guards."

"I am to wait till everyone is served – the King is served first, of course, and I am not to speak until spoken to."

"Same goes for me, with the difference I'm not going to be served anything but sight of good food."

"Viola!"

"It's true," Viola looked over her shoulder, sticking her tongue at him cheekily. "What else are we to do?"

"If I remember correctly… blah, blah, _blah_, and then we say good night and go to sleep." A thought struck him. "Do you actually have some quarters assigned?"

As far as Bilbo knew, Viola hadn't left his side, which would make assigning any quarters quite difficult, to which Viola nodded. "Until your wedding I am to sleep in one of the outer rooms – not the anteroom exactly, just the small one after it, I think?"

They talked for quite a bit after that; Bilbo slowly putting his clothes on and Viola was cleaning her armour in order to look presentable at the dinner. _Elven_. As if the craftsmanship had been any worse than dwarven, she thought, her fingers tracing one of her bracers. Sure, it was more delicate than what she had seen of dwarven craft so far, but it suited her _just fine_.

"What do you think the rest of the family will be like?"

"No idea – I just hope they will be better than my certainly-not-missed Sackville-Baggins relations."

The whole dinner had actually been quite… pleasant, if Viola were to voice an opinion about the whole affair. Just as she and Bilbo said – she was just standing by the wall, her eyes moving around the room, as she stood there and tried not to fiddle with her belt, since none of the other guards had been moving, like, _at all, _with Bilbo seemingly having all the fun.

And the royal family – everyone seemed a bit detached, if polite, and Bilbo was doing his best to be polite as well. Some of the questions had been really personal, as far as Viola's ears could hear (and that was most of what was said by the table), but even if Bilbo was bright red as he replied, his manners certainly didn't leave him, even if he was sometimes rather clipped in his answers.

She was rather glad when the dinner had been at its end and they were allowed to return to their chambers, Bilbo quickly getting ready for bed, while she wolfed down some bread and cheese.

Of course, she could live without someone deciding to test her alertness in the middle of the night, especially after she found out that the intruder was the head of royal guard, Dwalin, son of Fundin, who certainly didn't appreciate being hit over the head with a vase, but as things were, she proved to be rather watchful even if dead on her feet; with Bilbo being very quiet in his movement around his room when her alarm sounded, appearing out of thin air (as it seemed to the dwarves who were present) when she called everything was alright.

Yes, she could live without such wake-up calls, but the sight of Dwalin, with flowers on his head and his mohawk being all sopping wet had certainly been worth it.

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**A/N:** Those who have read the beginning of the whole piece may notice that this fic actually got a custom cover. It's a work of marvelous Tudalia from deviantART, whom I commissioned for a picture for this work, and let me tell you that the result of his work really surprised me, in a good way. He's open to commissions, by the way, so check his work out, and feel free to message him about commissions, if you like his work - I know that I most certainly will :D

Anyway, since I'm currently banging between one hell of an author's block, searching for work and being unsuccessfull in that endeavour, I made a survey about what people think about this.

The survey can be found at this link:

**docsDOTgoogleDOTcom/forms/d/1ynBHOC7Qt19wkY4MDApVDD7qz-fpL-zACpJJRsnbtr8/viewform?usp=send_form**

Remove the DOT and replace it with . and it should take you to the survey. And arrrgh, I really hate how FFnet works with links. *glares at the editor*


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Hark - an update! Also known as the chapter where I prove I'm actually still alive, while I'm still working on re-writting the previous parts to make them shinier.

**Disclaimer:** I still own nothing. Oh well.

* * *

_"Any fool can know. The point is to understand."_

**-o.O.o-**

Now that Bilbo finally met his soulmate, part of him felt restless every moment he was not near him – which, sadly, had been more often than not. There had been many things he had to learn before their wedding; from customs, proper protocols for everything to at least basic understanding of khuzdul, the dwarven language, usually not taught to foreigners, but since he was to marry one of the royal family, he was given an exception in that particular law.

His teacher was one of the librarians; a young scribe of name Ori with brown hair and lively eyes that shone every time he and Bilbo spoke of what both of them loved – books. They would spend endless hours by chatting about books and authors, completely forgetting about their lectures until an amused Viola put a stop to that, reminding them of their duties.

It was during those lessons that Viola finally verified identity of her soulmate. Dwalin, son of Fundin; personal guard of Bilbo's soulmate and also someone who seemingly (or _obviously_, Viola could never decide) didn't like her a single bit as it was.

Listening to Ori correcting Bilbo's pronunciation of khuzdul she smiled. It will be a challenge for both of them to make their soulmates accept them, but she had no doubt that they could do it.

In the meantime, there had been thousand and one thing to master, which sounded like something to keep them busy for several months at least.

However, there was at least one thing neither Bilbo, nor Viola, liked. Bilbo's weapon training lessons, held by Princes Kili and Fili.

As Viola watched them to beat Bilbo every time, she was biting her lips until she could taste blood in order not to yell at them at the very top of her lungs before she would walk to them quietly (most definitely she wouldn't stomp over like a pissed off troll) and with polite words interrupt their "lesson" with saying that master Baggins was needed elsewhere, helping him up from the ground before they left the princes on their own.

**-o.O.o-**

Thorin himself had been rather unsure what to think of the man that was supposed to become his Consort; Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo, son of Mungo. He certainly had been very polite and witty, and according to Ori, son of Riivka, quick in learning what could be taught to him about the culture of people he was marrying into. He already was able to write cirth, and even if his vocabulary in khuzdul had been expanding only slowly, he was able to read in the secret language.

His face looked strangely bare, almost like that of a child, but at the same time, his eyes were captivating and tended to enchant those who spoke to him with the lively spark in their blue depths. The hobbit way of walking around barefoot made the dwarves wonder how was that even possible that they either wouldn't hurt their feet or get cold inside the Mountain.

And the clothes they wore!

Viola Whitfoot was still wearing the elven attire, given to her by the elves of Rivendell – which was something that made Dwalin scowl at her more fiercely than even Thorin had ever had the bad luck of seeing focused on him. If not for her weapon skills, Thorin had no doubt that Dwalin and the rest of the guards would waste no time in grilling her during the drills – as she was, she was admittedly weaker than the dwarves, when it came to physical strength, but she was faster and more agile than even Dís was in her top form, easily twisting her body in ways that made his backbone hurt just by looking at her.

Bilbo Baggins often wore something Ori told him was the usual clothing for a gentlehobbit; pants that didn't reach his ankles, held by suspenders instead of a belt (and isn't that just a waste of opportunity to wear well-made belt), a shirt, a vest with remarkable brass buttons, a jacket of rich brown-red colour. His strength rested on his scholar knowledge and diplomacy skills - according to Balin, every hobbit could talk in circles and insult you with a bright smile and with such skill that one would find himself nodding along and thanking them for it.

Both of them could often be found at various places in the palace; talking to servants, asking them about this or that, discovering the place for themselves during the long winter months when it was nearly impossible to leave the Mountain. It was during those months that both hobbits lost the warm colour in their faces, becoming pale from the lack of sun and light they were so used to receive every day even during the winter time when on the surface – but even pale, they still were very active and knowledge-seeking.

Not to mention that Bilbo could prepare the best tea, and offer the best cookies to come with it, in the rare times he was allowed to use the palace kitchens for a time.

Cooking was another thing both of the Shirefolk liked to do, when given the chance. Bilbo once asked to be allowed to prepare a feast for the royal family, consisting of what hobbits would usually prepare for such an occasion and in just the two of them, with help of one apprentice cook, they were able to offer such variety of foods that everyone had been quite awed.

But the biggest hit had been the sweets that the hobbits managed to prepare, especially the cookies. Everyone had been sneaking those away to enjoy later, even Kili and Fili, no matter how much they would deny the claim, if anyone asked about.

In moments like those, they almost started to view Bilbo Baggins in positive light. But then the alarm sounded in their heads.

'You catch more flies with honey than you would with vinegar, so be careful, once he starts serving sweets to everyone present.'

All of this had been just a play; play that wouldn't, that _couldn't_, end well.

**-o.O.o-**

"Did the rangers also always hit so hard, when you were learning how to handle yourself around weapons?"

Viola looked from the bracer she had been adjusting and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You see," started Bilbo carefully, stifling back a groan, as his muscle pulled painfully when he moved. "When I'm training with Fili and Kili, they do not seem to realize I'm not as sturdy as the dwarves they trained with so far."

"So I have noticed," Viola replied darkly, looking to the ground, "but I'm unable to do anything with that from where I'm standing." She tugged at the newly made armour she was wearing; a dwarven make, lighter than what the dwarves usually wore, but still heavier than what Viola was used to. "I miss the elven attire I could wear before," she sighed. "This thing makes me feel more like a statue than a person."

Both of them had been sullenly quiet for a moment, before Bilbo chuckled. "Just imagine what would the others say, if they could see us."

Smirking, Viola nodded. "Oh yes, I think that the Tooks would call us dummies for disliking an adventure, the Bagginses would probably just shake their heads over us, and the rest of the Shire would tut at us for missing the elevensies more often than not. And then they would cuff us over ears for complaining, when our soulmates are within reach," her voice took on the longing note, as she looked down again, causing Bilbo to hug her around the shoulders.

"Don't forget about our purpose here, my dear Viola," he said, pressing her shoulder. "We will get it done."

She gave him a smile, as they went back to their quarters, both of them completely missing the two princes, who came to stand just behind the corner, their faces grim with determination, since they caught only the ending of the conversation going between the two hobbits.

Of course they would have a purpose for being here, they thought. And that purpose will never get fulfilled, no matter what they would have to do for that.

* * *

**A/N: **So, yeah, still alive and kicking. My muse had been mostly shot to hell because of work. I feel as if I spend majority of my time there, mstly on those dratted afternoon shifts, and it's killing me, since it completely destroys any notions of social or private life I could have. The whole holidays the weather was absolutely boiling, and what do I do? Spend all those sunny days at bloody work, while everyone is going on holiday, for a swim or anything, while I suffer at work. I haven't seen my friends for months and it sucks, folks, it sucks. If at least my salary reflected it - but from the state of my bank account I'd say that the more I work, the less money I actually have. So, which is why I would like to ask you to possibly like and share my FB store page (more like "page I have set for my Zazzle/Society6 stores). What I post there? Updates about my (mostly) fractal designs, ongoing sales and also art I like on the pages I have set my stores at. I'm not asking you to buy things (while if you felt like it, I certainly wouldn't try to stop you), but if you could give me a Like and possibly share some of the things I post there, I would be very grateful.

The page I'm talking about - _Veronika's Fractal Emporium_ . (I really hate it that I'm unable to link basically anything on this page, grr).

Thank you all for your attention and see you at next chapter!


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